At the Edge Read Free

her head out of nowhere. Where had it come from? Maybe a movie or a television show? She didn’t know. It seemed like sound advice, but just the thought of following it made her chest squeeze. She couldn’t stay here. What little light she had was fading. It had to be nearing dusk. And she couldn’t just sit here with two dead bodies and a man who might be sliding into a coma. Mick needed medical attention now, and she had a means of getting it.
    She made her decision and felt oddly calmed by it.
    Emma closed up the satellite phone case. She hefted it over the seat and slid it beside the door, then glanced around.
    Daylight was fading. She needed to move. Her gaze fell on a water bottle that had rolled against the side of the cabin. She unscrewed the top and took a long gulp. The liquid soothed her throat and made her feel somewhat human again. Like an actual person, not a character in some B-grade horror movie. She crawled over to Mick and nestled the water bottle beside his leg, where he’d be able to reach it when he woke up.
    When , not if.
    She spotted the leather holster at his side where he kept the pistol he always carried.
    She stared at the gun. She didn’t know anything about weapons. And what would she use it for? Besides, it seemed wrong to take an injured man’s gun.
    She eyed his sand-colored cargo pants and noticed a bulge in one of the side pockets. She dug out a key ring with several keys attached, including one to a Jeep. Also on the ring was a small pocketknife. Emma slipped the key ring into the front pocket of her capri pants and pulled herself to her feet.
    She touched the top of Mick’s head. “I’ll be back,” she whispered. “I promise.”
    Then she moved toward the door and used her good foot to give it a strong push.
    Emma held onto the side of the plane as she looked around outside. Leaves and branches blocked her view. But she spied a patch of dirt, maybe five feet down. Before she could second-guess her decision, she grabbed the satellite phone and swung her legs over the side. She jumped, careful to land on her uninjured foot, but her leg didn’t hold her, and she crumpled to her knees in the dirt.
    Air.
    Warm and humid, all around her. The freshness of it came as an immense relief . . . until she tipped her head back and looked up.
    Emma’s heart sank.
    The plane had plummeted nose-first into the trees, knocking several over but hardly making a dent in the dense jungle. One of the wings was entirely gone, and the other tilted up from the fuselage at a sharp angle. Only the tail remained intact.
    Emma turned around and found herself surrounded on all sides by tall trees and leafy vines. She was alone out here. Through a gap in the canopy, she glimpsed the fading light of day. Panic bubbled up inside her as her situation sank in.
    Who on earth could ever find her in this wilderness?
    â€”——
    It was jungle and more jungle as far as the eye could see. Lieutenant Ryan Owen gazed from the Black Hawk at the vast wilderness below. Everything looked silver in the moonlight. He saw no sign of a wreckage, but it was down there somewhere. He and his team just had to find it.
    Ryan glanced across the helo at Jake Heath. The roar of the rotor blades made it impossible to talk, but he and Jake had been together since BUD/S training, and he knew what his teammate was thinking. It was the same thing they’d all been thinking since the briefing when they’d learned that an American ambassador’s plane had gone down in the southern Philippines: Had anyone survived the crash?
    Because of a last-minute schedule change, the ambassador himself hadn’t been on the flight. But his wife had, along with her personal assistant and a Dr. Juan Delgado. The fourth person on board was retired Marine pilot Walter McInerny, a man with twenty thousand flying hours under his belt, not to mention survival training. McInerny’s last